


Just A Few More Months

by DaronwyK



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-19 12:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18135476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaronwyK/pseuds/DaronwyK
Summary: Rival Quidditch Captains are not supposed to fall for one another. Hiding their relationship takes a little Slytherin subtly.





	Just A Few More Months

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DBQ2019Round1](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DBQ2019Round1) collection. 



> Written for Death By Quill. Round One Prompt: Mirror Magic. Pairing: Oliver Wood/Marcus Flint. Many thanks to my Beta who must remain nameless.

oOo

 

“We can’t keep doing this,” Oliver gasped from where he was pinned under Marcus’ body. His eyes drifted up to the soaring scaffolding of the Quidditch stands above them. He dragged a hand through his sweat dampened hair, and tried to bring himself to end it. They’d been sneaking around for months, ducking their friends and teammates. This thing with Flint made no bloody sense, but sweet Merlin it felt too damn good to stop.

 

“I know.” Marcus came up on his elbow to meet Oliver’s eyes. He looked resigned to the fact that they couldn’t be together. “Someone’s going to catch on eventually, and you know what’ll happen next.”

 

“We’ll both lose our captaincies faster than you can say snitch.” He rolled to the side, out from under the Slytherin Chaser’s muscular form. Oliver reached for his shirt and pulled it on, heart aching more than he’d thought it would. This was supposed to just be a bit of fun, a little release of the tension that had been simmering between them for years. He'd never expected to feel anything deeper, but he did.

 

“It’s only a few months until the end of the year, and then we can do whatever we want.” Marcus reached over and laid a hand on Oliver’s arm, keeping him from getting up from the comfortable little spot they’d made here, hidden below the Hufflepuff stands. “Or do you just want to forget this ever happened?”

 

“You know I don’t,” he said and leaned over, catching Marcus in a heated kiss. He’d never felt like this before, and he certainly didn’t want to just give it up. He drew back and looked into the other wizard’s eyes, shocked at the depth of desire he still saw there.

 

“Then we’ll find a way,” Marcus said. “Leave it with me.”

 

oOo

 

Oliver was riding high. They’d managed to pull off a win against Ravenclaw, despite Harry having a crush on their Seeker, Cho Chang. The Quidditch Cup was still in his grasp, as long as they played well against Slytherin in the last match. More importantly, he’d seen a few scouts in the stands. Hopefully he’d done enough to impress them. All of the work he’d put in this year was to get a spot on one of the pro teams next year. Flint had told him that he’d been offered a spot as a reserve Chaser with the Falcons, and it certainly fit the Slytherin’s style of play. He just wanted a chance to prove himself in the pros, even if it was just one game. 

 

After a nice hot shower, he headed to his locker to get dressed, but frowned as he opened it. There was a green bag hung just inside, slung over the hook that held his robes. He took a quick peek inside, seeing a mirror and a note. He got changed quickly, and tucked the bag inside his robes so he could look at it in private back at the dorm.

 

The bag burned at the back of his mind all through the Gryffindor victory party, curiosity keeping him from really getting into the celebration. He was all too happy to finally escape up to his room and pull the curtains closed around his bed. He pulled the note out first, seeing Flint’s blocky scrawl on the paper.

 

_Cast a privacy charm, then tap the glass and say ‘Geminus Vitri’. – MF_

Oliver cast a heavy privacy ward on the curtains around his bed, and then repeated the incantation as he tapped the surface of the mirror. The glass darkened to an inky blackness and then he could see Marcus. The dark-haired wizard was reclining back against the pillows of his own bed, his chest bare in the dim light displaying his intricate ouroboros tattoo. Even in the darkness he could see the tattoo shimmer, moving in its infinite circle. 

 

“You Gryffindors are a bunch of lightweights if your party’s over already,” Marcus teased, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Ours go until dawn.”

 

“I had something more pressing on my mind,” Oliver said. “This is brilliant, Flint. How’d you figure this out?”

 

“Everyone thinks I’m a meat-head, but I *can* read.” Marcus bristled a little.

 

“You’re not a meat-head, Marcus,” Oliver said gently. He knew how touchy Marcus was about the fact that he’d had to redo his 7th year. It hadn’t been his fault, the concussion he’d taken in that match last year had left him unable to sit his exams. “I just never heard of a spell like this.”

 

“I remembered old Flitwick saying something about mirror magic last year, so I went looking for some books. It wasn’t that hard once I found the right spell. We can use these to keep in touch now. They aren’t limited by distance, so as long as we’re careful…no one will know we’re talking.”

 

“I’ve missed you,” Oliver admitted. It had been three weeks since they’d agreed to stop sneaking down to the pitch to see each other.

 

“Me, or my cock buried in your tight arse?” Marcus teased crudely.

 

“Both,” Oliver felt heat crawl up his neck. He could always do that, make him blush like a bloody virgin. It wasn’t so much the words, as the way he said them.

 

“Get undressed for me,” Marcus said, heat entering his grey gaze. “I want to see you.”

 

Oliver shivered a little, but nodded. He used a pillow to prop the mirror up, and started to strip off his clothes. His faded Quidditch t-shirt came off first, followed quickly by his flannel pajama bottoms. His heart was beating hard against his ribcage, knowing his dorm mates were just the other side of the curtains. The spell would keep them from hearing anything, but all it would take was one of them pulling a panel back to see what he was doing.

 

“You’re so bloody gorgeous, Ollie,” Marcus said, watching him hungrily. “Touch yourself for me.”

 

Those words went straight to Oliver’s cock, and he couldn’t help the moan that slipped past his lips. He kept his eyes locked on the mirror, and slid his hands down his chest, pausing there to tease his nipples. He pinched them hard, the way Marcus liked to. He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining his lover being the one doing this. Fuck, he liked thinking of him that way. His lover.

 

“Look at me, I need to see your eyes.” Marcus pulled him back.

 

Oliver shivered and obeyed, Quidditch calloused hands tracing over muscle, all the way down to the pulsing hardness between his legs. He wrapped his hand around his cock and whispered a lubrication charm.

 

“Stroke it nice and slow, Wood. Just like that,” Marcus said, a shadow of movement betraying what his own hand was doing, just out of sight.

 

“Bloody hell,” he groaned between gritted teeth. It felt so damned good, better than just wanking alone.

 

“Now faster,” Marcus finally said. “I want to see you come for me, just for me, Ollie.”

 

“Marcus…” he gasped, hand moving faster now. He was so close. What he wouldn’t give to be in Flint’s bed right now. To have the bigger wizard shove him down roughly and fuck him until he saw stars. That mental image was enough to jump him off the ledge and he came with a shout.

 

Marcus wasn’t far behind and together they both collapsed back against their pillows. Only the ragged sound of their combined breathing filled the space, granting them the illusion of being together.

 

“Only a few more months, Marcus. Then we won’t need these mirrors,” Oliver said, finding his voice again.

 

“Just a few more months,” Marcus agreed. “But we’re keeping the mirrors. I can think of some inventive uses for them.”

 

Oliver couldn’t help the silly grin that crossed his face. “Deal.”


End file.
